The Model Wife



“Allow me,” he said, opening his hands toward her. She took his meaning and suddenly completely comfortable and without thinking about the others, she stood and slipped the knot in the belt, the robe fell open. She turned her back toward him, allowing her only garment to slip from her shoulders into his waiting hands. He laid her husband’s gift over the back of the chair. She turned back to face him, immediately remembering the others. In a rush, her nerves returned. The thought went through her mind, I am naked in front of complete strangers, next to an attractive tousle haired man young enough to be my son. 


“Would you mind taking off your shoes, when you sit down?” he said, interrupting her thoughts. 


She looked down past breasts, belly, to her feet. Shining black shoes peeked out below her exposed breasts, somehow the shoes emphasised her nakedness.


“Oh, no, sorry. I forgot I was wearing them.”


“If you sit," he said, helpfully, "I’ll slip those off for you and then guide your pose.”


He smiled again. Damn, don’t smile. 


Completely out of her control, her body had responded, her nipples stiffened. She knew it would be blatantly obvious that her body was aroused and did not know where to look, inevitably found herself looking right into his eyes.


She sat down.


He knelt at her feet like a suitor about to propose marriage, looking up at her he said, “Cross your legs, I’ll slip off the shoe.” 

Tom Covenent, Erotic Writing   Tom Covenent on Amazon


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